s1.e4

Joy Control

           “What am I looking at?” Jace asked as he thumbed through the thin pages of the mini-mag. “Is this supposed to be like the channel guide that comes up on TV?”

           “What do you think they had before modern set-top boxes? Couch potatoes relied on this little weekly book for decades, and it told them what to watch. When there were still only fifty or so decent channels to surf, it could all fit in each little issue.”

           “Okay, sure. And why is so much of it highlighted?”

           “Worked on that all morning,” Wes said and took a bite of his donut. “In fact, the first set of shows I marked in pink start at eight, so I’d use this time to get ready.”

           “Get ready for what?”

           “Two days straight of TV watching, bud! I’ll be there for some of it, but for the most part, you’re on your own. I still got a few things to take care of.”

           “You want me to sit in this room for two days, while you’re running around doing who knows what? What are you so busy with, anyway? I thought this whole trip was supposed to be something for us to do together.”

           “Sorry, Jace. It’s mostly boring adult stuff. But that’s okay—this is important for you. Forty-eight hours from now, your mind will be so saturated with modern shows, and commercials, and attitudes, and looks and sayings… that you might feel like you were actually born the same year I was. It’s like conditioning. But the fun kind!”

           Although he could think of worse wastes of time than spending all day in a nice, air-conditioned room in which he could do whatever he wanted while watching some television, Jace still let out his typical sigh and shook his head.

           “You picked more than one show per time slot… uh, a lot,” he noted.

           “That’s just to give you more options; let you watch things that might interest you. Or, you can flip through the channels and check out a little bit of everything.”

           “And you watched all of these?” Jace exclaimed as he skimmed two days’ worth of grids like they were in a flipbook. “How did you have time for anything else?”

           “It’s not like every show was new at the same time. But they’re all new to you. I mean, I did watch a ton of reruns. It’s great seeing your favorite episodes over and over. I’d memorize lines, look forward to a scene, try to remember what happens next… And if I wasn’t sitting down to pay attention to the TV, then it was at least almost always on in the background. Everything I highlighted left some mark on me growing up. I think you’ll get a good handle on what current-kids are talking about after this ‘training.’”

           “And why is that so important again?”

           “Well, like I said, you could try to make a friend or two while you’re here.”

           “Just one problem. If you’re gone all day, then I’ll be stuck with a remote and TV that are freaking out on me because time still doesn’t like me being here.”

           “I might’ve figured out a solution to that problem. Or maybe I can at least make it less frequent.” Wes pulled the hotel room’s remote control out of his large pocket and tossed it onto the bed for Jace to see. “What do you think?”

           “What the heck is this?” Jace picked up the remote and didn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “You wrapped it in my underwear? What is wrong with you? Sicko.”

           “A clean pair! I thought, if it’s covered by atoms or whatever from our time, it’ll be more stable. Sorry about going through your stuff, but there wasn’t much I could use.”

           Jace looked at all sides of the remote, seeing how a pair of his briefs was tightly covering much of it, aside from its IR lens and buttons. For good measure, its first layer was a clear plastic bag. Figuring it was also his, he remembered where it had come from.

           He grumbled, “Hey, I had a bagel in this bag. You didn’t eat it, did you?”

           “It’s in the minifridge. So, what do you think? If you’re not touching it directly, it could work better. Did you know that all of the atoms in our bodies are different than those we had only a year ago? Maybe once enough of yours get swapped out with these older, 1995 models, the glitch will go away. It didn’t take too long with me.”

           “Yeah, fascinating. I dunno. I thought you had come up with something a little more, like, scientific than an underwear shield. Kind of disappointing.”

           “Give me some credit. I thought it was a pretty creative bootstrappy fix.”

           “Anyway…” Jace got back to looking through the guide. “You must think all these highlighted shows are the greatest things ever, made you who you are, and you’ve probably memorized every episode. Do you see all the characters as close friends, too?”

           Wes laughed. “Didn’t you learn anything from the movie? They’re just television shows, kiddo. I don’t put them on a pedestal. Some of them aren’t even that great. But others are classics, sure. And they were our primary source of entertainment. I mean, we loved video games, yeah, but we couldn’t play them online yet, and we all had different consoles. But TV was a universal language among kids. It’s one way we stay connected.”

           “Then what are some of your favorites? What should I watch the most?”

           “Again, this is about what grabs you. And I try not to play favorites. But I can tell you what I watched the most often, all from memory. I’m not trying to impress you, but it’s a pretty long list, and if I get started, you’ll have to let me finish.”

           “I can’t say I really care that much.”

           Insulted, Wes snorted and then scoffed, “For that, I’ll sound them off anyway.”

           “Great. And I bet you’re going to talk about Nickelodeon first, aren’t you?”

           “Okay. Nick shows first.” Wes gave his neck a crack, took a deep breath with his eyes closed, and stretched like he was about to conduct an orchestra. “The central pillar of entertainment in kiddom. At least if you had cable. The channel didn’t even make its own shows when it first started. Wasn’t until ’91 or ’92 that the original three Nicktoons came around. And those are… Ren & Stimpy, which was the gross-out one that helped define the channel’s early culture and probably couldn’t be made now. A dog and cat go on misadventures that called out to the cartoons of the 40s and 50s. Many parents were probably put off by its more adult humor, but my mom was cool with it.

           “Then there’s Doug. It was a show you watched because… it was on. Every now and then it broke out of mediocrity, but by the time you’d seen every episode, you kinda wondered what it all meant. It’s about a boy, his intelligent dog, the girl he stalks and the bully who stalks him, and his colorful friends of somewhat indeterminate age and their everyday problems… And the main character goes into trances most episodes, where his imagination blows his grievances and stressors way out of proportion. But it still had its memorable moments, and a place in my heart. Then Disney took over and ruined it.

           “Of course, we also have the original Rugrats. Talking babies, tiny adventures, and skewed perceptions of the world—but the adults are also interesting and have their own stories. The writers depict the small things we take for granted as enigmas for the tykes. The second and third seasons are the classics; the prime stuff. Got so popular in reruns that they brought it back a few years after it originally ended. Had the longest run on the network until our friend SpongeBob came along. It got a few movies, and propelled the studio into making, like, four or five more shows. It’s even getting a reboot.”

           “Wow, Wes. Do you have all of this written down somewhere?”

           “Hey Arnold! is also really good, but it won’t be around for a few years. Oh, but Rocko’s Modern Life is. It’s about a wallaby and his animal friends, dealing with everyday objects and events trying to kill them—and it also got away with a lot of adult jokes. Um. The channel is still playing Tiny Toons, where a new generation of Looney Tunes characters go to school with the originals as their professors. Steven Spielberg was involved with it, and its successor, Animaniacs… a kind of new age variety cartoon that’s highly regarded, while being remembered just as much for its Pinky and the Brain segment.

           “Nick also had game shows, that basically started with Double Dare, which is all about getting messy, and later Wild and Crazy Kids, that makes children your age do these weird outdoor activities. Legends of the Hidden Temple is the king of them. After some trials whittle down teams, one of them gets to go through a giant trap-filled obstacle course, Indiana Jones style. Don’t hold your breath waiting to see a winner, though; that didn’t happen very often. I think they made a TV movie out of it for some reason in 2016.

           “Getting into live action shows, you had Clarissa Explains it All, where a snarky teenage girl gives domestic life tips, and is okay with a boy climbing up to her room on a ladder all the time. The Adventures of Pete and Pete was a brilliant little series about brothers who had the same name, their weird parents, and their weird neighborhood. In Are You Afraid of the Dark?, teenagers tell scary stories at a campfire, which managed to spook me sometimes when I was your age. You keeping up with me? I’ve only started.”

           “What should I do, take notes? You’re going to keep talking no matter—”

           “I didn’t watch much Hey Dude or Salute Your Shorts, but All That, a junior version of Saturday Night Live, was required viewing. Subsequently, one of its actors went onto co-host Kenan and Kel and later joined, basically forever, SNL itself.”

           “Are we done with Nick yet? I had no idea they used to have so much variety.”

           “There are still a few more I can talk about, and I haven’t even mentioned Nick Jr. sick days, but I’ll move on. There were a lot of other cartoons, on the other channels, but you had to know where to look. Lucky for you, I did all of that in the guide. Disney took a bunch of their properties and turned them into shows starting in the late 80s.

           “Chip and Dale: Rescue Rangers, TaleSpin, and Ducktales gave existing characters their own worlds, and new characters came around, too, like the crime-fighting waterfowl in Darkwing Duck. In the late 90s, Disney started making more human-oriented cartoons, like Recess, that explores the school playground and little local legends. It isn’t around yet, either. But Goofy gets a son and Pete as a neighbor in the suburban slapstick Goof Troop series. The channel has tons of other offerings when you need a Nick break.

           “Saturday morning cartoons still exist, for now, and there are kid shows on ABC in the afternoon. Fox has Fox Kids, and a channel called The WB has a youth block, as well. Honestly, they were all secondary to me, so I don’t exactly remember what airs on what, but the animated Batman series is usually seen as the Batman show. You know… if you like Batman. Or there’s the anti-super hero, The Tick. Or a whole bunch of demonic ones, in Gargoyles. And Eek! The Cat exists. I didn’t really watch that one.”

           “Then why mention it? Wrap it up, okay? I’m not taking this stuff in anymore.”

           “Feel free to watch Beavis and Butt-Head on MTV. I won’t tell your mom. Show’s a cultural hallmark. It even brought Daria and King of the Hill into existence later on.” Wes began to fall into another nostalgic trance. “The Simpsons is only in its, like, sixth season, also in its prime. Can you believe they’re still making new episodes? I know Lucy keeps up on it. Ah, what else… Guess I’ll mention ReBoot, the first CGI television show. Normally not a big fan of those, but I make an exception here since the aesthetic works. Its characters live inside the computer world and have to beat human users at games.

           “Anyway, that’s enough cartoons. They were my bread and butter, but there were even some early ‘reality’ shows I watched, too. Like Rescue 911, where William Shatner narrates stories where, well, people call 911 and get saved. And Unsolved Mysteries—which should only be watched at night. The unforgettable theme song and Robert Stack’s voice are a perfect mix, and everything is scary, whether the episode’s mystery is paranormal or a disappearance. Both shows had top quality reenactments.”

           “Uncle Wes. Please…” Jace lowered his voice. “Just shut up.”

           “I listened to your rant; now it’s my turn. You got a couple of Star Treks if you need some sci-fi, and Next Generation even has a character named after me,” he joked. “If you want more paranormal, weird stuff, try X-Files. Twin Peaks may still be airing reruns, too—but you’re kinda young for it since it’s about murders, possessions, otherworldly beings, drugs, human vice… But Ghostwriter has good mysteries, so you can watch that instead. A ghost who really likes words helps a group of hip city kids solve crimes. If you seek more science wisdom, check out Bill Nye the Science Guy. Saved by the Bell is culturally important, and I think its sequel show is playing now. But, I never liked it. And high school for me was nothing like it. Definitely check out a couple Seinfeld episodes, too.”

           “Wesley, enough already! Everyone’s really impressed, but you can stop now.”

           “Okay, okay,” he huffed. “I think my recollection train has derailed, anyway. But if you want to watch reruns from the 80s when there’s nothing else on, you can do that, too. Some of those series stayed on for quite a while. Now, which 1980s shows do I…”

           “Please! Don’t. Just… let me check them out for myself. I can watch TV all day. I mean, I’d rather be playing video games, but television is a close third, after YouTube.”

           “I was kidding. But you know, I think there’s something almost profound about the stories behind shows, or movies, or games. It’s great how people can come together and form a working family. Then they all go their separate ways when it’s over. But they leave something eternal behind, and their own growth continues with other projects.”

           “You can really over-hype stuff, Unk.”

           “Heh, maybe. I dunno. I’m, uh… My brain’s fried now. Welp. Time to go.” Wes patted Jace on the head. “But I’ll be home, er, back for lunch and dinner. Come up with some questions, or, like, observations. I can talk about episodes all day. Have fun with your underwear remote. And don’t mute the commercials! Not until you’ve seen them at least once. They’re part of the memories, too. Call me if your glitch screws stuff up, and maybe I’ll figure something else out. Oh, and don’t watch anything I wouldn’t!”

           Jace rolled his eyes, and felt relief once Wes finally left. He fell into bed and got ready to go back to sleep… but then instead eyed the TV guide. Hesitantly, he opened it to find that Wes had highlighted five suggestions for the early time slot alone. Though he’d be ashamed to admit it, a few of the choices did pique his interest.

           There was the world of children, and then there was the world of adults. While Wes had long tried to maintain some blurred lines between the two, today he was again venturing purely into the often-mundane land of things typically only those over thirty had to get involved with. To help finalize his plans, he had to drive to a strip mall on the outskirts of the city, a block of small businesses with only desert valley beyond them. He parked in front of a unit that sat between two dusty, vacant lots looking for owners.

           “Eddie L. Meeks, Financial Advisor,” Wes said out loud as he looked up at the sign and dangled his arms over the open car door. “I’m sure the name fits.”

           Past the squeaky, dirty glass door with a pair of bells dangling down from its top, Wes entered into perhaps the tackiest office he had ever seen. The carpet was mustard yellow, the walls were covered in wood paneling and photographs of Frank Sinatra, Elvis, and other singers from the 50s and 60s, and the lone desk in the center of the small room looked like a cheap version of what Tony Montana snorted powder off of in Scarface, complete with industrial blocky legs and a mirrored surface.

           Eddie had no receptionist, and he was currently alone as he conducted business through a 1970s beige phone. Two empty red vinyl chairs from the age of disco stared up at him, with much of the short and stocky man’s face hidden behind a relic of an IBM computer monitor. As he jabbered, he frequently tapped cigar ash into the marble tray under his brass and green banker lamp. Once Wes got a little closer, he could see the brown and orange-tinted glasses on his middle-aged face, as well as his combover.

           Meeks stuck an index finger in the air to indicate that he was aware of Wes, and continued with his call, “David, would I lie to you? Would I? All the years we’ve known each other. I’m telling you, right now’s the time to invest in Apple. I know what you’re going to say—that the company hasn’t been the same since they kicked Jobs out, that their days are numbered, yadda yadda. But the little organizer they made, the Newton? They’re getting their creative edge back. They’re telling the world that they can innovate without him. The new model’s really going to take off. Believe me.

           “What’s that? Uh, no, I don’t know if the next one will play music or not. Why would you need something like that? You got a Walkman, don’t you? What? Oh, buddy, that purely digital music stuff won’t take off. You heard the sound quality? People want premium audio. Trust me, CDs are here to stay. And so is vinyl, for the true aficionados.

           “All right. Think about it. Always a smart move. Whazzat? No, no, you want to keep that investment in pork futures. Well, sure it’s ‘boring as hell,’” he air-quoted with his one free hand, “but you always want some stability in your portfolio. All right, Dave. Say hi to the wife and kids for me. Of course I’ll send you some pears on Christmas, just like I always have. Why are you so concerned about that? It’s half a year away. Eh, yeah, you’re a funny guy, Davey. All right. Got a possible new client here. Yes. Take it easy.”

           Wes initiated things and removed his sunglasses after Eddie hung up. “Hi. I’m ready to get into the market. But I just can’t figure it out on my own. It’s so confusing.”

           “Well. That’s, hm, that’s great. Got no experience, huh? That’s fine. I got some good suggestions on investments. I tell clients that I excel at ‘street’ knowledge, because I actually go out there, talk to people, and listen to the trends. I’m not some broker on Wall Street who spends all day in their apartment staring at graphs, I tell ya. Of course, maybe I’m just a dinosaur now. They got these fast computers—robots, doing a million trades a second these days or some nonsense. Takin’ the human element right out of it. But the market’s organic. It relies on hunches. People get those, not machines.”

           Rarely on the receiving end of a lecture, Wes quickly interjected when Eddie took a moment to refuel his lungs, “Name’s Nick Deckard. I’m here to make us both happy.”

           “Are you now? Heh. That’s a good opener. Ya got confidence, kid. So, how much you thinking about putting in? If you want to roll some big dice, I’d look into Ford or GM. Good old American power. I see good things coming to made-right-here cars in the next few years. You like cars, Nick? The roar of a V8?”

           “Yeah, not in this decade,” he replied with a smile. “But I got a list in mind, of companies I’d like to dip in and out of every week. Just a little in each, though—diverse, but shallow. Got some good feelings about them, but I don’t want to risk too much.”

           “All right, all right. You got that on you, by any chance?”

           “I came prepared, Ed.” Wes pulled out a paper folder from his trusty case. “Take a look inside, tell me what you think. But don’t expect to change my mind.”

           “Huh? Now you sound awful sure of yourself. Eh, let’s see here…” Eddie bit into his cigar and skimmed through the stapled papers that had been printed in the future. “This looks like it’s mostly toy and media companies. Both can be unpredictable. You know something I don’t? You some Yale grad or something?”

           “No, sir. I just, um, have a formula. All original. Plus, some hunches. You respect gut feelings, right? The ones I’ve had all my life have never let me down.”

           Eddie dropped the folder onto his desk and smothered his used cigar in the tray. “Don’t know a thing about you, kid. We haven’t talked about where you’re from or what you’re trying to gain. You’re not bringing insider trading into my office, are you? Do you even know what that is? Because I’m not going to any prisons for you—doesn’t matter how nice the tennis courts are. People think that just because I run things all the way out on the edge of town and grew up in Vegas, I must be up to some shady business.”

           “First of all, Mr. Meeks, I’m thirty-five. Not really a kid,” Wes said flatly.

           “You’re kiddin’. You don’t look a day over twenty. Geez, you one of those health guru types or something?”

           “Are you normally this suspicious of all your new clients?”

           “When they barge in here with a folder full of their own prospects from God knows what sources, yeah, I have to be. I’ve severed ties with a few guys that I’m almost positive were trying to make a patsy out of me, thought they could do whatever they wanted and have me take the fall, just because I might have the visage of a scoundrel.”

           “Aw, you don’t need to call yourself that. You look like a hard-working honest American trying to make a buck in a world that looks down on your… ah, our type.”

           “Okay, okay. Now you’re just trying to butter me up. Come over here and sit. Tell me about yourself. Let’s get to be friends, and then we’ll talk about your list here. You smoke? I got four different brands of cigs in the file cabinets under my desk.”

           “Never,” Wes declined and took a seat.

           “Cigars, too, if you change your mind. So, where do you call home, Deckard?”

           “Right here. Born in Royal Valley, in 19… uh, 60.”

           “The same year they closed the military base. Was one of your parents an officer? Seems like every other native around your age grew up an army brat.”

           “Um, no. I was free from all of that.” Realizing that he might need his knowledge of local history to impress Eddie, Wes took a moment to dive into his databanks before adding, “Heck, I remember passing by the base every day on the school bus home. They took so long to tear it down that it practically rotted away by itself.”

           “So I’ve heard. Then they put an amusement park on the grounds of all things.”

           “Crazy, isn’t it? You think there’s unexploded ordnance under the roller coaster? Shoot, they’re opening this weekend, too. Maybe I should’ve invested.”

           “Its parent company isn’t public. Believe me, I looked into it. It’s opening at just the right time, though. It’ll probably make a lot of dough.”

           “On that, we can agree.”

           “Anyway, you said your hunches have never let you down. You got any great accomplishments you’re proud of? Maybe that came from a good gut feeling?”

           Wes, always eager to start spouting off his favorite moments, quickly responded, “When I was a kid, I won a shopping spree at Toy—er…” He paused, and settled on the first store to come to mind that was open in 1970 before continuing. “At Sears. I picked out a bunch of… appliances for the house. Washers, dryers… A blender.”

           “Really now? When you were just a sprout, you did that for your family? That shows some real maturity in making investments, when you could’ve just grabbed a bunch of frivolous stuff a kid would be interested in. Never heard of a Sears shopping spree, though. Was it at the one in the mall, when it was new? Heck, let’s just move on.”

            “Any other accomplishments you want to hear about?”

            “That’s all right. The tale you shared kinda says all I need to know. I just have one last question. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

            “Uh, well, I haven’t really…”

            Eddie laughed, stood from his chair, and extended a hand. “I’m kidding! This isn’t some job interview. I can tell you’re a standup guy, you’re serious about this, and you want to make money as much as I do. I just need you to sign some papers.”

            “Oh. Good, good…” Wes breathed a sigh of relief and shook Eddie’s pudgy fingers, noticing a class ring from 1963 as he did so. “I hate job interviews.”

            “Heh. If you make enough money off all these hunches, you won’t need one.”

            “That’s the point. Hey, there’s a movie coming out this year, called Casino. It’s… um, it looks like Goodfellas in Vegas. Might be right up your alley.”

            “Is that some ‘insider’ knowledge of yours?” Eddie joked.

            Unconcerned with breaking or getting around any laws with his unique wisdom, Wes began signing papers eagerly. After all, should attention be attracted, he could grab Jace and return to the present. Of course, attempting to do so would require courage.

           Once all of the stockbroking was done for the day, which left Wes feeling in need of a long shower to wash off some invisible grime, he slipped his shades back on, got in his car, and called Jace’s new, or rather, old phone as he drove.

           After ringing five times, the kid finally picked up and squeaked, “H-hello?”

           “Jace, buddy! I was worried you forgot how to use a cell phone.”

           “The stupid thing was right by the bed, but I couldn’t figure out how to answer it. And the ringing was so loud that it scared the crap out of me.”

           “Gross. Clean up the place before I get back.”

           Jace audibly groaned.

           “I’m just checking in, and trying out the phones. You still doing your homework over there? What’s that playing in the background?” Wes asked.

           “This one show you didn’t talk about, Bobby’s World. It’s a cartoon with this little brat with a really annoying voice, and I kind of hate him already.”

           “Yeah, you don’t have to watch that one if you don’t want to. How’s the remote working out for you? Stuck watching Jerry again?”

           “It’s actually… working. So far.”

           “Is it hard to admit I did something right for a change? Anyway, just a reminder that I’ll be there for lunch. Going to take a nostal-joy ride around town.”

           “Whatever. I’m not hungry yet. Been eating a lot of snacks.”

           “You’re turning into me more and more by the second, pal!”

           “Uh-huh. Sure. Maybe bring some real food,” Jace said and hung up.

           Wes pulled up to a convenience store to get a few final items that he had forgotten to acquire earlier. On the way out, he grabbed a newspaper from one of the stands by the door. Within its pages was a link to the next phase of his big plan.

           He first glanced at the headline, to see another story concerning the imminent opening of King Arcade. Then he flipped over to the back pages for the classifieds.

           With one of the pens from the twelve-pack he had just bought, he began circling prospective apartments for rent on his steering wheel. Most anything would do, so long as he didn’t settle on some ramshackle domicile in the city’s worst neighborhood.

           He had spent enough long, cold nights in such a place on his previous visit. This time, he had brought an iPad full of stock history, and it would keep him quite warm.

           On an unusually rainy Friday afternoon, an anxiety-ridden Jace found himself in the mall’s arcade, where the neon lights and noise from dozens of cabinets were doing a number on his already exhausted senses. His reaction speed diminished, he looked at his uncle, gleefully firing his pink weapon at a row of targets. They’d been playing an early light gun game, Point Blank, but in his current state, Jace was letting down his blue pistol.

           “What’s the matter, bee sting?” Wes, victorious, asked as the game ended.

           Jace huffed. “Too tired for stupid nicknames. Where are you getting these?”

           “I got tired of calling you pal and buddy over and over. So, I’m experimenting. I thought you’d be more excited about leaving the room and getting some game time.”

           “I’m overloaded. I watched, like, thirty hours of shows over two days…”

           “Are they bouncing about in your head? That’s the conditioning taking hold.”

           “They all began to blur together after a while.”

           “That’s why we need to inject some gaming into your psyche; get it focused on something else. I’m gonna go get more quarters. Here,” he gave him his last one, “play a round by yourself while I do that and scout out more cabinets to try.”

           As Wes left, Jace stared at the quarter in his palm, wishing he could find some other use for it. But between his choices of either playing more or wasting time in the futile struggle of finding anything else to do, he picked the easier option.

           After firing several shots of infrared light at the screen, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a group of three boys approaching, all around his age. And like his former friends, they were all taller than him. He tried to keep his focus on the shooting gallery in hopes that they wouldn’t engage, but the trio seemed to be on a mission.

           “Hey,” one of them said and watched the screen. “Not bad.”

           “Yeah, I suck at this game,” another added. “Hey kid, you got a gun in real life?”

           “Nice hair,” the smallest of the three commented in an airy voice.

           “You guys got a problem?” Jace suddenly snapped and turned to them after getting a game over, which he blamed on the distraction.

           “Ease up, man, we’re just talking,” the tallest one said with a friendly laugh.

           Jace took a moment to look at their faces, and saw that there was no hostility to be found. He had to remind himself that they didn’t know anything about his history.

           “Sorry,” he breathed out. “My uncle made me watch TV for two days straight.”

           “Whoa, your uncle makes you watch television?” the middle lad with glasses and braces asked. “Mine just has me do farm work when I visit. What shows do you like?”

           A torrent of shows ran through Jace’s head in a scrambled frenzy, yet he couldn’t pick any out of the mess, so he simply replied, A little bit of everything?”

           “Do you want to join us for some Simpsons?” the smaller one with the faint voice and only an inch on Jace asked. “We’re looking for a fourth player.”

           “Maybe he’s only good at shooting games,” the tallest, red-haired boy suggested.

           “I’m good at all games,” Jace said defensively. “But I’m waiting for my uncle.”

           “And where is this cool uncle of yours?” Braces Boy asked.

           “Um…” Jace looked around, and soon spotted Wes excitedly playing a fighter jet game, having been distracted by bright lights, sounds, and nostalgia once again—and it looked like he was making a fool of himself. Embarrassed, Jace told them, “I don’t think he’s, uh, coming back right now. I’d play,” he tried to be polite, “but I’m out of coins.”

           “No problem, dude, we’ll spot you,” the tallest said and prodded the short one’s shoulder, who produced a bag full of quarters. “Stu here just had a birthday.”

           “We don’t get to do four-player that much. It’s worth it,” Stu explained.

           Seeing that there was no way out now aside from running out of the arcade like a coward, Jace relented and nodded his head a little nervously. “All right, I guess.”

           Konami’s The Simpsons arcade game was a classic; so much so that Jace had even seen a working cabinet outside of King Arcade—in a gas station somewhere, as a young child. He had watched its demo loop a few times, but never played it before.

           He wasn’t all that happy to get stuck with Lisa, instead of Bart or Homer or even perhaps Marge, and didn’t like the fact that her weapon was a jump rope. Even so, after several minutes, he did feel himself loosen up a bit, and had some fun with the others as they pummeled countless cartoon characters. The three were experienced. They knew the multiplayer combo attacks well and were able to set them up at every opportunity.

           It took half of the quarters in the bag, but after several continue screens and forty minutes of fingers mashing against plastic buttons, the team managed to see the rare, honorary completion screen of an arcade game. Jace felt a sense of accomplishment, but never learned why Mr. Smithers was leading a jewelry heist at the start of the “story.”

           “Wow. That’s only the second time we beat it,” Braces Boy said. “Now what?”

           “Air hockey!” Stu answered. “Gavin, let’s have a tournament!”

           “You can’t really have a tournament with four people, dude,” Gavin, the tall one, replied. “But we could find some other kids who might join in. Maybe your cool uncle could even be one of the players,” he suggested as he looked at Jace, and then eyed Wes, who was over in a driver’s seat and intensely swerving his car in a racing game.

           “Yeah! I don’t mind playing with an old dude if he’s pretty good at something.”

           “Why do you think my uncle is so cool?” Jace genuinely wondered. “Because he’s not. Maybe he used to be, but not anymore. He’s actually kind of a jerk that always tries to get his way. Sure, he buys me stuff and we watch movies together, but that doesn’t really make up for him being bossy all the time and making jokes about me.”

           “Sounds like you got some issues, man,” Braces, aka Mikey, said with a laugh. “Ah, someone else is using the air hockey table anyway. What other four-player games are around? Um, there’s Gauntlet. Blue Wizard needs food!” He laughed a second time.

           Gavin replied, “Gauntlet is as old as dinosaur poop, Mikey. How about X-Men?”

           “Is that another beat-em-up?” Jace asked.

           “Yeah, it’s really awesome, and you won’t have to be Lisa again.”

           “Is there anything else? I mean, it was kind of fun, I guess, but I don’t really like that feeling of… doing the same thing over and over again?”

           “Man, you’re really a tightwad,” Stu sighed. “No offense! There’s nothing wrong with being one. But you can still learn how to have fun.”

           Jace grumbled, but admittedly did want to play another game, since it reminded him so much of his late-night sleepover console sessions with his former friends.

           So, he quickly made a suggestion before one of the boys could insult him further, “What about Hungry Hungry Hippos? That’s four players.”

           “Hey, yeah,” Mikey replied. “I always forget this place has the Treasure Trove’s old unit. It’s kind of for little kids, but… uh, I still find it fun. And it’s cheap.”

           “I’m up for it,” Stu agreed. “It’s a quick burst of chaos and luck.”

           Vaguely aware of the game’s minor cultural presence but having never played it either, Jace followed the others to the dome that enclosed four colorful hippopotami. After a group of girls—all around six years old or so—were finished with a game and ran off to find another, the temporary friends gathered around to start their turn.

           Despite his positioning efforts, Jace got the pink hippo. Stuck with the worst character again, his hopes for a good time dimmed before the game even began.

           After the coins were dropped in and a plethora of white plastic balls was released, he watched for a few seconds as the other three started bashing away at the one control mechanism available: a button matching the color of each player’s famished amphibious ungulate. Accustomed to games that needed a controller’s dozen-plus buttons and pads, Jace took a second to devise a strategy as he made his hippo chomp at food a few times.

           Whereas the guys made their animals bite as much as possible and mostly hoped for the best, Jace realized that with his sharp eyes, he should be able to open his hippo’s mouth at just the right moment to gobble a pellet—instead of doing it the inefficient way and having the annoying things bounce off the snout between chomps. Easy.

           Or, it should’ve been. In addition to having the lamest color, his button also kept randomly sticking for a half-second before he could press it again. As an unpredictable problem, it was hard to work around. Growing frustrated as the short game wore on, he soon lost all patience and started pounding away as pellets kept ricocheting.

           “Son of a bitch!” he suddenly burst out. “Stupid pink hippo, eat something!”

           The other three looked at him, but the game ended before they could respond. Jace finished in third place, beating only Stu—who didn’t seem upset at all, as he had rather enjoyed and laughed at simply hitting his button as many times as possible.

           “Dude…” Gavin said and stared at Jace like a disappointed adult. “You really gotta calm down and try to have some fun. Seriously, man, it’s just a game.”

           “But my button wasn’t working right! I hate losing because of some stupid—”

           “Rematch?” Stu interjected. “He can get the blue hippo this time.”

           “I… don’t think so,” Mikey sighed. “I don’t need to hear any more complaining today. Sorry, kid, but that’s kind of all you do. Even when we were kicking butt in The Simpsons, you always found something to moan about. It’s bringing me down.”

           “Yeah, for real,” Gavin agreed. “Maybe he’s just having a bad day, and we could pick this up some other time. My mom’s probably looking for me, anyway.”

           “Wait,” Jace asked of them. “I can chill out. I can, um, talk about cool things while we hang. Let’s just do a few more. How about that three player Rampage game, with the giant monsters? I mean, one of you will have to watch, but…”

           “I’m up for that,” Stu said excitedly.

           “No, Stu,” Gavin replied. “Now he’s just sounding desperate.”

           Now fully realizing that he was pushing away three kids that happened to want to actually do something with him, Jace began trying too hard and added, “Come on, guys. Let’s be like the Blue Barracudas and win some games as a team.”

           Gavin raised an eyebrow and stared at Jace. “Uh. What?”

           “Look, I’m cool. Real chill. I can even teach you a few things—I can explain stuff like Clarissa. And I’m tough, like Artie from Pete and Pete. Don’t be dumb like Beavis and Butt-Head. I’m also like the kid in The Wizard, who came to California to win at video games. You don’t even know all the games I’ve mastered. If I could just tell you without breaking the time-spa… uh, without breaking your… faces, then… Um. I’m a winner.”

           The boys looked at each other for a few seconds before breaking out in laughter.

           “You’re crazy, man,” Gavin said.

           “Y-yeah. Wild and crazy. That’s me.”

           “You just dropped a whole bunch of references to things and ended up making no sense,” Mikey added. “Maybe you really do watch way too much TV.”

           “You should take a few days to cool off, and if we meet up again, maybe we’ll play something. Later, kid,” Gavin said before leaving with the rest of the quarters.

           Stu gave Jace a shrug before heading off with the others. He felt red in in his cheeks and like a total idiot. Too embarrassed to think straight, he found his uncle and dragged him away from Mortal Kombat—invoking some childish whining from him next.

           “The heck’s your problem?” Wes groaned and took a sip from his water bottle as the two picked out a corner food court table. “I was almost at the top of the ladder.”

           “I had to get out of there,” Jace said, dropping into his seat. “I made a real jerk of myself. Hurgh…” He crossed his arms. “These older boys just wanted to play arcade games with me, and all I did was complain about everything.”

           “Oh?” Wes seemed surprised. “At least you know what the problem was. Still… just complaining doesn’t seem reason enough to run away. They weren’t mean, right?”

           “No. I… got clingy, and then blurted out random TV and movie junk.”

           “Buh-ha!” Wes chortled. “I can picture the scene. ‘Look at me, I’m a time traveler, watch me try to be hip and trendy.’ That’s not gonna work, Scooby snack.”

           “I was stuck inside with the TV for two days; it’s literally all I can think about!”

           “I guess I am partially to blame. It’s all right. But you did have some fun, didn’t you, before your meltdown? Did you four play a lot of games?”

           “One of the kids had a bag full of quarters. We only used about half of them.”

           “Ugh, Jace. All of that money…” Wes groaned.

           “Why do you care how much… Wait, how did you know there were four of us?”

           “Just a guess.” Wes then let out a big sigh. “Screw it. Yeah, I paid them off.”

           “What the crap, dude! I can’t believe you just admitted that!”

           “What’s not to believe? Hey, I’m trying not to lie around you, and you probably would’ve found out eventually anyway. And then you’d only be angrier.”

           “I probably would’ve stopped caring by then. Why do you keep messing with me?”

           “You were never going to make an effort to meet other kids. I was trying to help, because you’re too young to be this hair-triggered. You push people away, Jace.”

           “Oh, yeah, you really helped me. Now every time someone tries to hang out with me, here and in the present, I’ll think you gave them a bag of money first.”

           “It was worth a shot. But I won’t do it again. Not like I have infinite cash.”

           Seeing a chance to change the subject, Jace asked, “How much money do you have? It feels like you’ve spent a lot already.”

           “Oh, don’t worry about adult issues like that. Look at the bright side: at least you played all those games without your glitch popping up and making things even worse.”

           “I guess.” Jace dropped his head onto his crossed arms on the table. “Maybe because they were all multiplayer games with other people.”

           “It canceled that out? Yeah, I see what you’re saying. You might be right.”

           “Hey, all of this talk about arcades and glitches… I saw an episode of this one game show, where kids competed by playing arcade games.”

           “Nick Arcade. Sure. I think it only lasted a single season. Maybe two?”

           “Most of the show is okay, like when the players go up and compete at games to see who gets a high score. The trivia part is boring, but fine. But then at the end, the big winner gets to compete inside an arcade game? And, I dunno if it was just a bad episode or what, but that didn’t work at all. Like, the poor teenager just seemed confused, and kept waving his arms about. He couldn’t even make it past the first level.”

           Wes chuckled. “I still always thought it would be freakin’ awesome to do. I even signed up to get on the show. When I was older and saw reruns, I realized how flawed it was; too ambitious. I can imagine the contestants against a backdrop, seeing themselves on a screen, desperate to make their arms and legs interact with power-ups.”

           “Now if you want to go inside a game, you can just put on a VR headset.”

           “Yeah. I guess so. Shows and games from this decade often tried to innovate with something new and outrageous, but we didn’t really have the hardware to back up the ideas. Usually the ‘cutting edge’ tech or graphics just ended up looking goofy.”

           Jace looked back at the nearby venue he had just fled and added, “Why are there still a few arcades around in 2020, anyway? Everyone already either has a game console or just plays something for free on their phone. Aren’t they actually opening more?”

           “It’s a wonder to me, too, but I think they’re coming back for social outings. It’s nice that they’re still around for us, long after their prime in the 80s. Too bad,” he gazed over at the busy arcade with another nostalgic smile, “that this one closes in eight years.”

           “You know what I realized I really hate?” Jace changed subjects again. “Seeing the same commercials over, and over, and over, and remembering how each one goes, and that horrible feeling you get when the super-annoying ones start playing again.”

           “I told you that you could’ve muted them after seeing them once. Heck, you didn’t have to listen to any of them. That was just a suggestion.”

           “I mean, sure, but all that muting takes… effort. Anyway, I’m not even used to seeing commercials that much, because I don’t watch a lot of TV. I stream most of the shows I watch. But, dang, how did you put up with all the garbage?”

           Wes shrugged. “Just did.”

           “Why are they all in a competition to see who can be the loudest? What is the obsession with twirling girls’ dolls so you see the hair whip around, before the camera zooms in on the face? Why does a kid always shout ‘I win!’ when they, you know, win at some dumb game like Mr. Bucket? Why do boys try to look in their sisters’ electronic diaries and get upset when it has a password? And don’t even get me started on the local commercials with potato quality video. All those used car ads, and their low APR!”

           “Potato quality, heh…” Wes snickered. “Classic.”

           “And I thought Skechers commercials in our time were irritating.”

           “Shoes!” Wes smacked the table upon having a sudden realization. “You need a good pair of shoes. Style and comfy feet—those will give you a confidence boost.”

           “I thought the ones I have now are fine. Why didn’t we get a pair at Target?”

           “Because I didn’t think you needed them back then. But now I’m starting to get anxious to correct you. Also, the mall has a better selection, anyway.”

           “‘Correct me?’ What am I, broken?”

           “Let’s just focus on completing your contemporary fashion set, by swapping out the last piece of lingering future-wear. A nice pair of high tops will look good on you.”

           “Do I really need some expensive shoes if I’m only gonna wear them for a day?”

           “They’re another status symbol! Bring ’em with you, show ’em off in the present! Also, I’m not showering you with gifts thoughtlessly. I always give them a lot of thought.”

           Next stop: Foot Locker. Jace’s mode of arrival: dragged along, as was customary.

           Quite a few families had nothing better to do on a rainy Friday than to go shoe shopping, so the store was full of parents and their kids; some bored, others enjoying trying on often colorful footwear. The smell of rubber and leather permeated the air, and unlike most stores filled with children, those that sold shoes usually seemed to be oddly quiet by comparison. Maybe there was an unspoken reverence among patrons in the ritual of baring feet, and deciding what to walk around on for the next year or so.

           “Go find a pair,” Wes said at the entrance. “Remember to try them on. Duh. I’ll just be looking around. I always wanted a nice pair of boots when I was a kid.”

           Once Wes set off, Jace gave the store a quick look to find an aisle with kid shoes. As much as he disliked clothes shopping, he felt neutral about buying shoes. There was at least something nice about walking out of a store in a fresh pair with new padding.

           After passing by some teenage boys checking out the most expensive products in the store and complaining that they couldn’t afford them, Jace took a seat on one of the stools with an angled attached mirror and scooted around to look at the inventory.

           Following a full rotation, he noticed that a girl about his age had walked into the aisle from the back of the store. He turned away as to not appear to be staring, but kept an eye on her in his peripheral. She shuffled around listlessly, then without the least bit of excitement grabbed a box of very plain sneakers, had a seat on the aisle’s other stool about twelve feet away, and took out the shoes and clopped their soles together.

           It was hard to get a good look at her face, as a portion of her long, light brown and unkempt hair covered the side closest to Jace. She had to make minor adjustments every few seconds to keep the adult-sized headphones on her ears. The wire ran down to a portable CD player in the pocket of her also oversized, drab faded green button shirt, its sleeves covering her hands. Her music was just loud enough to be audible.

           After several seconds, Jace realized how bored she must’ve been, as she seemed to have little interest in actually trying on her selection. He went back to looking for his own pair. There was a nice, not-too-big set of gray and black ones that got his attention, so he yanked them out and gave their insides a hearty sniff for that new shoe smell.

           Once he got his nose out of the box, he saw her looking at him indifferently. Her right eye was free from the hair, and a few of her front teeth showed a little. Jace had to admit that she was actually kind of cute—in a brooding, sulky sort of way. She scratched at her jeans, pulled at her long undershirt, sniffled a little, and turned away again.

           She steadily slipped on her new shoes like Jace did, in between further glances at one another. Every time he got a glimpse of her face, he felt a sense of familiarity, as if he vaguely remembered seeing her somewhere before. Maybe a former classmate of his, like one of the kids that sat in the back and never talked to anyone? Her need for a big, baggy, and ratty old security shirt also seemed awfully similar to his own.

           After Jace put his old pair in the box, he stood and took a few steps in his new shoes. They were nice, comfortable, and roomy, though he did feel that the tongue was needlessly large. He tied them up tightly and walked back and forth in a small space.

           Surprised that he liked them as much as he did and willing to accept another gift, he smiled a little and turned around. The smile disappeared as soon as he noticed the girl looking up at him, who then stared down at her own pair of basic, cheap black footwear. He wasn’t sure if she was just depressed about not being able to get something nicer, or if she had chosen them herself; preferring to keep things understated to blend in.

           She mumbled about something, stood, looked at herself in the nearby full-sized mirror, and without taking a single test step, sat back down and began taking them off.

           “Shoes like that are overpriced,” she stated matter-of-factly, perhaps to justify her own bland but practical choice. “Kids think buying them will help them make friends.”

           “Uh… Well, actually, they’re not…” Jace wasn’t sure how to respond.

           Her mother rounded the corner before things got too awkward. She wore a wide grin, a pearl necklace, a fancy watch, and a black pantsuit. She looked like a business lady, a real go-getter—especially of shoes, as she had already acquired three boxes.

           “There you are, hon,” she said to her daughter. “Did you find a good pair?”

           “Sure,” the girl replied and held up the box so her mother could see.

           “Tch, you always get the same kind. Lucy, try being a little adventurous.”

           Jace froze in place, afraid of further interaction, as one of his grandparents—who unlike Wes’ mother he had rarely ever met—took away the kid version of his own mom.

           Once she was at a safe distance, he moved again and watched as she waited in the checkout line, cradling her new shoes. Her mom then made her hold all four boxes as she dug around in her purse. They wobbled in Lucy’s arms as she tried to balance them.

           “Hey,” Wes said from behind, sending a shock down Jace’s back. “Find a pair?”

           “I, uh…” Jace stammered as his nerves relaxed a little. “Y-yeah.”

           “Lemme see.” He looked down at the open box. “Not bad. They fit okay?” Wes then checked the line and suddenly squeezed Jace’s shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Dude! Holy crap!” He pointed at Lucy. “Do you know who that little lady over there is?”

           “It’s my mom… She sat right across from me.”

           “You didn’t talk to her, right? Oh, man, tell me you didn’t!”

           “No! I mean, I didn’t know it was her, but we didn’t really talk or anything.”

           “Okay.” Wes breathed. “Good. If we change anything that involves her, your very existence might be in trouble. Let’s wait until she leaves to buy your new kicks.”

           “I thought she looked familiar, but I wasn’t expecting her to be so…”

           “Dreary? Hair over her eyes, bad posture, headphones drowning out a world she’s already fed up with… She’s kinda like you, huh? And proof that anyone can improve.”

           “Don’t you think we should be more careful? Now we’ve run into both you and my mom. I thought you knew what places her and Wessy were likely to visit.”

           “Hey, I’ve only been through this day twice. I still have a lot of gaps where I’m not sure where we could be lurking. Plus, I usually only saw her every other weekend and sometimes at school. She lived a whole separate life from my own most of the time.”

           “Oh, try to get them all in one bag, please,” Lucy’s mom asked the clerk. “We have enough garbage around the house already. Honey, hand me those boxes.”

           The overworked employee filled the request by bringing out the largest plastic bag available and stacking three of the boxes inside. He then crammed in the box with Lucy’s pair sideways, where it was crushed a little, causing a shoe to pop out. The guy at the register asked Lucy’s mom if she was sure she wanted a single bag, but she insisted. After paying, the two left the store, and Wes ponied up for Jace’s sixty-buck pair.

           They all seemed to be heading for the same exit, so Lucy’s brother and son kept a wide berth as they followed from behind, trying to remain casual and inconspicuous.

           As Lucy and her mother were leaving the mall and squeezed through the non-automatic glass door, Wes and Jace witnessed one of the girl’s new shoes finally slip out from the box, slide off the bag, and land on the tiled floor. Neither of them noticed or heard it, and none of the other nearby mall-goers had seen what happened.

           After hopes diminished that someone else would see the rogue sneaker, pick it up, and chase after the two, Wes ran over and grabbed it. Jace joined him at the door and saw Lucy and her mom get into a fancy red car as his uncle bit his lip.

           “Guess she won’t be seeing that shoe again,” Jace commented, and looked up at an antsy Wes. “You’re not thinking of getting it back to them, right? Right? Uncle Wes, you just said my existence is on the line! Mom will get more shoes in her life.”

           “Poor Luce,” he sighed. “She always acted so downtrodden at this age. I wouldn’t have even noticed if one day was worse than the last for her.”

           “But this already happened. I’m sure she recovers and goes on to do great things, like having me. Let’s just put the shoe down and go back to the hotel.”

           Wes looked at him, then at the shoe in his hands, and promptly stated most daringly, “Nope! We’re gonna make her day. Lucy’s not having a bad weekend on my watch. Look, don’t worry—I’ll just drop it on her porch. C’mon, kiddo.”

           Clutching the quest object in one hand, he yanked Jace out into the parking lot, where the summer showers had stopped and puddles were evaporating in the afternoon heat. Lucy’s kid didn’t get a chance to speak again until the car tires were screeching on wet asphalt, and Wes was already firmly locked into his latest adventure.

           “She probably doesn’t even like these stupid shoes,” Jace groaned and looked at the black sneaker in his lap, having become the one responsible for its safety.

           “A shoe isn’t gonna make you disappear,” Wes promised. “And this’ll be easy!”